It took nearly twenty minutes before the ship finally lurched back into motion.
The Kraken's corpse drifted in the distance, staining the ocean with ribbons of red, its bulk already drawing lesser monsters that circled like shadows in the water and were feeding on it.
On the ferry's deck, silence clung like frost.
The crew worked quickly, though their movements were haunted, their eyes still flicking toward the waves as though expecting the appearance of another monster.
The two Executioners had been pulled aboard, but barely.
Their armor was shattered, weapons bent and bloodied, and their bodies were broken in ways only holy healing kept tethered to life.
They lay in the infirmary now, groaning under layers of bandages, their proud insignias tarnished with failure.
Everyone knew the truth.
They wouldn't be fighting again for a long time.
Azel, meanwhile, had no such injuries.
